


His Initial On A Chain ‘Round My Neck

by Capspandex



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anaheim Ducks, Colorado Avalanche, Long lasting love, M/M, Nashville Predators, happy endings, head injuries, hook ups, kind of sad at tines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capspandex/pseuds/Capspandex
Summary: When Teemu gets traded to San Jose he gives Paul a gift that is a staple of their love that will last forever.





	His Initial On A Chain ‘Round My Neck

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Title from call it what you want by Taylor Swift. I’m very obsessed with this lyric and I wanted to use it for a fic so yeah  
> 2\. Lara beta’d ily

“Shit, teemu, I don’t know what to say.” Paul said, so shakily, years beginning to form in his dark eyes. 

“I’m sorry, the nhl is the nhl.” Teemu said, almost harshly, but still shaking and sadness in his face. 

“I’m yours, Teemu, always.” Paul replied, tears coming out of his eyes, rolling down his chiseled cheek bones. 

“I love you Paulie. I really didn’t mean for this to happen, but the nhl is the way it is and it’s always going to be like this,” Teemu said, sad, dissapointed, and bawling. 

“I’m always yours. Remember that in NorCal.” Paul replied, tears began to dry on his face. 

Before Teemu left, he wanted to get Paul something. He went to the Tiffany’s in fucking Beverly Hills, because he was excessive like that, and he was still technically a young hockey star, and who doesn’t love flaunting their wealth. He wanted to get something Paul could remember him by, and that was simple enough no one would question it. He settled on the classic heart shape in gold and got a “T” in pristine times new roman, completely centered on it, and a very long sterling silver chain to go along with it. He left the store with the iconic shopping bag in hand and wanted to wait to give it to Paul, when the moment felt right. 

It was their last night together, since he had the weekend to get to San Jose and decided to utilize it. It was steamy, intimate, and overly emotional. Paul was crying at Teemu’s touch, every kiss felt like it was their last, but not in the good way. Teemu, although less emotional than Paul was crying at their kiss, the way Paul curled up into his side. It was a delicate moment, one he never wanted to leave. Before Teemu left the next morning he woke up Paul. “Before I go, I have something for you.” Paul was hardly awake and just nodded. Teemu handed him the iconic blue bag. Paul opened it, taking out the box, unwrapping the perfectly tied shiny white ribbon, and then getting to the soft bag containing the necklace. He opened it up, the strings retracting, and dumped the necklace into his hand. Paul examined it quickly, ran his fingers over the “T” etched into the gold, and put it on. He started to cry, he would miss Teemu so much, more than anything he thought. Teemu pulled him in for one last hug, kissed him on the cheek, whispered, and almost whimpered, one last “I love you.” Paul could hardly speak. He kissed Teemu and allowed him to leave for the airport where he would be heading to NorCal and to be seen very little of again. Paul collapsed onto _their_ bed, which was now just his. That hurt. He ran his hands up and down his bare chest, and clutched the golden heart stop his own heart. He never wanted to let go. 

Paul silently spent days, weeks, sulking. He was so sad Teemu was gone, the love of his life was in fucking Northern California which felt like eons away. Before every name he’d clutch the golden heart with the perfectly centered times new roman “T”. He’d run his fingers over the engraving. It made him at least somewhat happy to know he was Teemu’s. He was Teemu’s and that was a comforting thought within itself. They still talked over the phone every night, before some games, sometimes late at night. They missed each other’s touch more than anything. The simple, plain, white California King was never the same without Teemu in it laying right next to Paul, and Teemu’s tiny apartment felt all wrong with no one there with him. Whenever Paul missed Teemu he would clutch the heart and remind himself he is Teemu’s. 

In 2003 when they reunite it’s incredible. It makes up for the two years lost to the cruelty of the nhl. Sure it’s colorado and it sucks, but they’re together, playing hockey, and that’s all that matters. There were nights in their shitty, shared apartment overlooking Denver, where Paul would just lay down next to Teemu and tell him “you know I’m yours.” And they’d kiss. Paul loves Teemu’s lips. They were soft and big and pink and he had this stupid pout that made him look so damn hot. That season went by fast, it was mediocre for hockey and filled with passionate nights in nice hotel rooms across North America in what felt like making up for lost time. The next season is useless, a lockout, nothing to do. Paul signs with the preds, Teemu cries an understanding cry. Paul knows he’s always Teemu’s, and they’ll still see each other because it’s the central. The spend the lockout together, taking things slow. They visit Anaheim, help Paul find a place in Nashville, go to finland, visit cities in the states and Canada neither of them had even seen before. They knew their time together, as the West’s dynamic duo was coming to an end so they wanted to spend every moment together. Teemu even joked that they were so much like an old married couple. They were on a road trip through the gorgeous mountain ranges of Colorado, not too terribly far away from Denver. It was such a clear night, the sky was a bright purple fading into navy and every single star was shining so bright. It looked like a painting. Teemu opened the top of his convertible and pulled over as some incredibly Emo love song blared over the radio. He leaned in and kissed Paul. It lasted until the sky turned black, every star still shining bright as it was before. “They’re shining for you.” Teemu said. “Because I’m yours.” Paul smiled, and blushed a beautiful shade of pink with his reply as he clutched again the “T” around his neck. 

Paul would onto that moment for the next season, the next year, the next decade, the rest of his life. Every night in Nashville, once hockey was back in season of course, he would rub his fingers over the necklace, clutch it, constantly being reminded that he is Teemu’s. It became his good luck charm, his superstition. The goddamn necklace, whose gold was starting turn dark was almost everything to him. Even as his body seemed to begin to fail him, his head, his joints, the necklace was always a source of comfort. 

Paul watched the finals on tv in 2007. He wished with every fiber of being he was there with Teemu. He wished he was scoring goals, helping his former team and beloved team mate out. The team looked so good, he longed for every moment to be playing with them. Some nights, after he’d talk to Teemu and wish him luck he would lay down at his apartment in Nashville and cry. He’d rub his fingers over the heart necklace as always. He was Teemu’s still, even if Teemu was going for their lifelong dream and Paul was at home on the couch. When Paul sees Teemu hoist the coveted cup over his head, he cries. He cries tears of joy for seeing the love of his life for so many years accomplish the goal he’s had his whole life. He cries tears of sadness, constantly cursing how he should be with them. He’s wearing Teemu’s shirt, an old ducks one from the 90s, feeling the fabric, touching his necklace, hoping it would magically make him feel like he was there with Teemu. He calls Teemu that night. Teemu is High from the win and drunk from the champagne and beer. Teemu just tells Paul how much he loves him and how much he wishes they could have done it together, as _Anaheim’s_ dynamic duo. It still feels like a shot to the heart that Paul couldn’t be there, he couldn’t win the cup. It stood over him like a storm cloud the whole summer. He signs with the blues, lets Teemu know, and tries to let things settle. 

Paul buys an apartment in St. Louis overlooking the city. It’s nice, but it’s not Anaheim, it’s not colorado, it’s not his home all the way up in Canada. He feels alien, nothing feels like home. There’s no Teemu in his bed, and there hasn’t been for years, but somehow it feels so much worse now. There’s no waves just out his doorstep or landscapes that are to die for just a brief look over the city out his window. There’s no comfort in knowing. It’s just lonely. He misses Teemu more than anything, and he’s staying in Anaheim as he should. It’s where Teemu deserves to be. Paul spends his first season in St Louis sad, but producing, which is what they wanted him to do in the first place. He calls Teemu alot, talks about how much he misses him. When they meet during the season it’s back to the way they were in the nineties, young, stupid, going too fast, acting like there’s no consequences. It’s making out against the door, rushed, messy, passionate sex in cramped spaces, and intimate, whispered “I love yous.” Its nice to act like they did nearly twenty years ago, but it also sucks. They’re old now, their bodies don’t work the way they used to, and they want to settle down. As Paul continues his career in St Louis he talks to Teemu less and less, it’s just quick, angsty, passionate hookups four times a season. He wants to know why they’re becoming so distant, but he’s too scared to ask.

Paul’s head takes a turn for the worse by the end of his career in St. Louis, soon to be the end of his career. The pain is killing him, he doesn’t want to go outside, enjoy the things he used to. Teemu would call and he could hardly talk his head hurt so much. It made Teemu so sad that when the playoff run ended he flew out to see Paul. He took care of him, made sure he could do something that made him happy, and eventually settled on taking Paul to Anaheim for the summer. Paul instantly improved upon arriving in Anaheim. The smell of the beach, the grainy sand, the always sunny skies with the clouds in picture perfect places. He was with Teemu, in his new place. It was a house, that was a glorified version of their old apartment. This new house of Teemu’s felt more like home than st louis and Nashville ever did. It was nice, it was even closer to the beach too. He went surfing, let the sun hit his face, the ocean water get in his hair, and just observe the way it changed color depending on how the light shined on it. He grew to love the wet sand, and high tide, and just time spent with Teemu, the way he would rub his fingers over the necklace and watch the way the gold reflected in the sunlight. Paul belonged in Anaheim, almost belonged to Teemu. Teemu in Anaheim was home, home moreso than his childhood home. It was more home than Colorado, much more of a home than his apartments in the central. It felt right. 

Paul didn’t play his last season because of his head. He was getting better, but hockey was different than surfing. He grew to be extremely pissed at the nhl, he’d call Teemu and rant about it. He was pissed at how they didn’t do much for him and other players with such severe head injuries like the one he suffered years and years ago that ruined him for the rest of his career. He was pissed he never won the cup, pissed he couldn’t end his career with Teemu. He went to Anaheim a few times during the season just to see Teemu. He kept it lowkey, just spent time on the beach and at Teemu’s House, didn’t even bother to attend games. Paul knew he just wanted to settle in Anaheim, being Teemu’s, watching the sun set and rise over the ride, and staying out of the public eye. 

When he officially retired from hockey, he did just that. It seems beyond ironic that out of the places in the United States and Canada, Paul chose Anaheim to settle down and stay out of the public eye. It’s right next to Hollywood, and it’s almost a Sports town. He spends his time on the water, in the house, or goes out to nice places on occasion with Teemu. Rarely he plays golf and practices skating. It’s a nice life, it’s settled. He doesn’t need to do anything, or prove anything to anyone. He gets to be Teemu’s, and be reminded of their love that went through so much with the golden heart that hangs right below his neck.


End file.
